such was her heartbreak
the scars were visible from space
trust like a wildebeest
giving way to the crocodile jaws of desire
door to the truth
hinged directly beneath his lying tongue
cut off from his actions
it remained locked
distant to her pain
her heavy chest sunk to the bedroom floor
an ocean of aimless wood
washed over by a handmade find
discovered at an estate sale up north
on a crisp autumn day with golden air
fingers interlocked in an electric ballet
their last hand clasp
today would be dark
the blue sky tarp burnt black
the worn Persian rug often for their lovemaking
until it was the only hard, soft spot remaining
to cushion her shattering pieces
created way, way college-back for a design class that I didn’t very much care for
claim what we want
this is our will
build, create, engineer, refine
spectacular minds ceaseless in dialogues
questioning this universe and beyond
we place ourselves above all living organisms
pontificate our supremacy
other occupiers require too much space
our supernatural right as leaders
take what we desire
force them into boxes
into dead holes
onto ragged patches
perhaps it is we
who are on the bottom
we who have always been the lowly
we who belong in the corners
if all beasts possessed our human capacity
for thought and reason
they might also destroy
the very home they hunt and graze upon
only those with grand intellectual mindsets
can perpetrate the killing of this planet
art previously published – Prisma on construction paper
there was this Chinese retaurant
it appeared one day
the previous tenant was a dollar store merchant
the kitchen went up faster than a flip tent
the cuisine, I can’t remember
what I do recall
is the decor
chandeliers hanging over picnic tables
it wasn’t right at all
but you know, those swanky lights
casting fractal beams
across distressed picnic tables
that belonged beneath iron lamp posts
are what brought me back
not the food
we ate there a few times
then as quickly as the restaurant had appeared
like a traveling circus
I remember thinking
those crystal lights and wooden tables
were off on another journey
to make merry the hearts of adults
who believed chandeliers
and picnic tables
were not ever meant
to be together
art previously published
Alas, my solemn promise – this is the last I will speak of my blog’s clothing this year. I began on WP back in February 2014. I went for a redesign that I liked, but it was through a self-hosted site. That, I didn’t like – too many bugs. Now, I’m back on WP. I’m so happy to be here, but my theme is naked.
Hey, I like naked as much as the next person, but a little excitement/color now and again never hurt anybody (unless we’re speaking in, Shades of Grey 😉 ).
So this is the newish blog. For now I hope my artwork will be enough. And yippy, I can reblog again!
Voodoo Yellow Man/mixed media
Well, that is all. Thank you. Dream well my friends…
It’s quite entertaining to have one’s head filled with mindless mist. While ‘trolloping’ about the Musing Moss of the Foggy Forest today, I bumped into a new friend. Tinhood as she calls herself, has agreed to assist me. Tinhood who knows the Foggy Forest like the back of her bolts, suggests dropping strategic breadcrumbs to help me navigate out. Hopefully, she doesn’t spill the oil from her basket-can or the antifreeze from her little red bandana in the process, ’cause that would be bad.
Oh, by the way – my blogtox injection didn’t take. I like the clean redesign of this blog, but I’m faltering behind the dashboard wheel. My airplane is not flying true. Lest I crash into a mountainside, I’m going for another blogtox procedure.
I don’t have the aptitude, nor the pilot’s license to be self-hosted. I must guide my wobbly craft back to WordPress and it’s beautiful landing field.
Thank you. May you dream of candy airplanes and marshmallow clouds…
Tinhood came out of the forest two days ago. Clion and Blogtox are old pros.
Countdown to blogtox injection and return to WP – 2 days…
Parrots are spectacular birds, brilliant both inside and out. As a child, I had many parakeets. Knowing how to tell the boy budgies from the girls, made me feel brilliant too. If the cere (directly above the upper mandible) was brightly colored, the parakeet was a male. I loved my budgies, especially when their little toes wrapped around my index finger.
So that’s the bird part. Now for the Be’s:
Thank you. May you be blessed with one thousand wonderful dreams and view the world with a bird’s eye.
Parrot created in 2009 while chasing small children around a swimming pool.
I feel disconnected without my Reader page. I’m hoping the little ‘blugs’ from the blogtox will soon be ironed out. I’ve grown very attached to you guys, more than I’m willing to admit. 🙂
In the meantime, I’d like to present a snow leopard. This feline hangs in my studio tucked in a corner. He’s not one of my favorite pieces. I suppose that’s why he’s hidden most of the time behind my open studio door. The door closes only when I’m giving an art lesson or my family is being boisterous. We can be a rowdy bunch – after all – it’s a wild life!
Thank you. May you dream of beautiful big cats prancing among the stars…
Snow leopard created in 2008 most likely on a warm day.
I’m republishing this post to see if bug is fixed for those that have seen already, my apologies.
The blogtox injection went well. The transition went very smoothly. The redesign went up much more quickly than expected. There are a few minor things, I’m hoping can be adjusted. Right now, I don’t think there are “Like” (not that I’d ever ask) or Reblog (not that I’d ever intimate) buttons. And, the Comment area has several fields. It’s not a simple Comment box for WP Users. Also the “About” page’s existing comments didn’t transfer. I’m hoping they didn’t get lost in a distant galaxy. Other than these few minor blips, everything is as it should be. Sorry for any inconvenience. If you’re willing to fill out the comment area, I’d really appreciate feedback on anything else you’d like to weigh in on…
In the meantime, while I was loading stuff to the newish blog, I downloaded a portion of old manuscript. I haven’t worked on any of my stories since last year. They need work. I need to improve my writing skills. I begin my stories the old-fashion way – I use pen for the beginning, then switch to pencil and erase at will. Eventually, I hobble over to my MacBook and let my fingers do the talking…
Thank you. May you dream of floating poetry and whimsical clouds…
Pencil Cap created two days ago after rereading some old manuscript sections.
I treated myself to a new scanner last week. My old one had been collecting dust. To date, all the art in my posts, with the exception of reblogs, has been photographed with my iPhone, emailed to my computer, then downloaded to the blog.
My pending Blogtox injection has made me a better person. Seeing art thumbnails together on screen brought me to the stark realization – I’m a lousy photographer. Many of my ‘characters’ drawn on white paper appear to have different colored backgrounds: dying rose pink, smudged dirt grey, speckly frazzled blue on screen… I’ve since rescanned all recent pieces done on white paper. Now, I’m onto the rest…
So, why do I tell you all this boring stuff? I’m apologizing in advance. As I go through the rescanning process, once in awhile you may see a drawing you’ve seen before. For instance, the lioness below is one I used sometime ago in a previous post. I felt she deserved a nice scan. Here she is making her scanning debut, Lioness after Lunch, in all her splendor and red sauce.
Please bear with me – you haven’t seen the bear yet 🙂 – as I clean up my act and attempt to get ann together.
Thank you. May you dream of fabulous photos free of dust, grime and red-eye…
Lioness After Lunch, and Bear Shy, drawn eight years ago, when I hung ’round the kids when they played outside.
I used reference photos for lioness, but I can’t remember from where…perhaps Nat Geo or a African Wildlife book, maybe both?
All last week, before the giant husband and I began our daily 5 AM walk, we could hear the ‘local’ coyotes howling with abandon. Their sad, almost infant-like wails echoed through the woods at the end of our cul-de-sac. The raw cacophony was lyrically unnerving.
This morning, however, the coyotes melodic cries were too close for comfort. Though the giant husband and I probably outweighed their pack by at least two-hundred pounds, I gripped my trusty Swiffer and the giant husband carried his heavy-duty halogen flashlight. I guess our plan was to dust them off, then show them the light 😉
When I mentioned to the giant husband that the howling could be from the elusive Chupacabra, he howled like a coyote. I told him that in Puerto Rico, 1995, goats were found with lethal puncture wounds and their bodies drained of blood. The name Chupacabra literally translates to ‘goat sucker’ in Spanish. And since the discovery of the gruesome ‘vampiresque’ goat scene, there have been random attacks on all manner of livestock. Eyewitnesses have reported Chupacabra sightings from Maine, USA to Chile to Russia…
Some folks take Chupacabras’ legend quite seriously, while others believe they are simply coyotes with mange… Below is my version of the mysterious Chupacabra. So, what do you think: Are there coyotes with mange prowling about, or could blood-sucking Chupacabras be real? Or should I just continue toting my trusty Swiffer?
Thank you. May you dream of friendly monsters with fluffy fur.
Chupacabra created in 2009 for monster project
Blogtox injection – 5 days to go